At first sight, you could easily mistake it for a sweet apple or a soft pear, but it’s a tough thing. There is an irresistible floral fragrance, but if you dare to bite it, you’ll be left with an awful raw bitterness. You have to be patient with the quince. It needs special treatment to let go of its harsh façade and slowly reveal its full essence and beauty. With the quince, it’s a love story.

The quince, not the apple, is the fruit that Eve used to seduce Adam in the Garden of Eden. The quince is the fruit that brides chose to perfume their kisses at wedding ceremonies in Ancient Greece. It is the fruit behind the exquisite delicacy called ‘Romeo & Juliette’ in the Spanish-speaking world. And yes, the quince is my Valentine’s treat.

In Morocco, the quince is abundant, but it is always cooked one way, in a succulent tajine with lamb, saffron, and cinnamon. Not very far from Morocco, in Spain and Portugal, the quince is prepared in completely different ways, to make delicious jellies and paste (membrillo).

I recently discovered in a great food blog, Fae’s Twist & Tango, another interesting use for quince. It is a Persian recipe for quince preserves with cardamom and rose water. I had to try it!

The quince is a Fall fruit and isn’t easy to find this time of the year, but our local Persian store manages to keep it available, fresh, and fragrant… if pricy. The original recipe calls for rose water, and I added some tiny dry roses that I brought from Morocco during my last trip. They are called ward beldi, which means roses from the countryside. Women grind them and mix them to make natural soap, sabon beldi. I like to put dry roses in tea infusions with some honey. One sip and I’m back in the sweet homeland.

For this recipe, you could use as many quinces as you like. My recipe has a single quince and will yield two 6 oz. jars, but you can multiply the recipe with no problem:

Peel the quince, cut it into quarters, then slice each quarter in half. Cut out the stems and cores, but keep the seeds and put them in a sachet.
Put the quince wedges into a large saucepan and add cold water, then add the sachet of seeds.
Bring to a boil, reduce the heat, cover the saucepan, and let cook for 1 hour.
Uncover the saucepan. The quince edges should have turned pink. Add the lemon juice and sprinkle one cup of sugar all over. Turn up the heat to bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and let the saucepan simmer covered for 1 hour.
Uncover the saucepan again. The quince edges should now be burnt orange in color. Turn off the heat, then add the cardamom sachet and the rose water. Let the saucepan sit for 15 minutes to diffuse the flavors, then remove both sachets and discard them.
Gently spoon out the cooked quince wedges and place into jars. Add one cardamom pod and one or two dry roses (optional) in each jar. I like to strain the syrup before I then pour it into the jars, filling them. Cover the jars and let them cool before refrigerating.

I find it better to wait until the next day to enjoy, so that the flavors can set and the syrup has a chance to thicken. Quince preserves are great eaten directly from the jar, or with cheese (Manchego) and bread. The remaining syrup can be used as a sweetener for tea and smoothies, and can add a great flavor to salad dressings. It can also be used to brush home-made fruit tarts, especially apple or pear. Yum!

They are called hors d’œuvres, bocas, tapas, banchan, dim sum, thali, zakouski, pu pu platter, mezze… to name just a few. They are appetizers. Some are eaten between meals like tapas, some are served before the main course like hors d’œuvres, some announce the beginning of a meal like antipasto, some are served alongside the main dish like Moroccan salads. Each has its own story and characteristics; what they all have in common is that they are too small to constitute a meal in and of themselves—unless they’re eaten in large quantity, but that’s not the point. As the American television personality Joe Moore puts it, “Appetizers are the little things you keep eating until you lose your appetite.” Appetizers are meant only to calm your hunger, and that’s why there are never enough of them.

My favorite appetizers are what the French call amuses-bouches or canapés, a kind of hors-d’oeuvres that are not necessarily followed by a meal. Often served at receptions and cocktails, they provide just enough of the food element to create the atmosphere of familiarity that fosters informal chatting among people. Amuses-bouches are easy to pick up and taste in just one or two bites, and you can easily move about while enjoying them.

But above all, there is something chic and elegant about amuses-bouches. Unlike the down-to-earth tapas originally meant to cover long hours between farm work and dinner, or the substantial dim sum historically made for travelers along the Silk Road, amuses-bouches are an eighteenth-century French invention intended to please guests, and the tradition of hosting still defines these appetizers. In principle, as an invitee, you don’t order them, you don’t pay for them, and you don’t complain about them.

I discovered amuses-bouches as an art student in Aix-en-Provence while attending exhibit openings. With their visual and decorative aspects, they were the perfect appetizers for such occasions. The same types were served in all gatherings, which was nice because it let you go directly to those you crave most. These appetizers left such a mark on me that when a friend recently asked me to help cater her wedding, I recreated my favorites guided only by fond food memories.

To my amuses-bouches, I ventured to add a mini version of onion tart by French chef Jean-Georges Vongerichten, as well as a few different spreads by Moroccan chef Mourah Lahlou from Mourad New Moroccan, which I combined in a single cup. At the wedding reception, my older son sat on a stool at the bar where the appetizers were served, and I could hear him say, “My mom made these!”

Years later, you can still find in France the same amuses-bouches I knew when I was student, along with an array of more inventive ones—new combinations and pairings based on different cuisines. In the culinary world, appetizers seem to be viewed as an independent category complete with its own signature chefs and national competitions. According to Jean-Georges Vongerichten, “The amuse-bouche is the best way for a great chef to express his big ideas in small bites.” With appetizers, there is so much to explore and try, even if you’re not a “great chef,” because with these tiny portions, there is little risk of colossal failure.

Food is present in picture books more than we think. Take for example the classic Little Red-Riding Hood. Couldn’t we say that story is about food? After all, everything starts with the basket of food that Little Red-Riding Hood has to deliver to her grandma. And it’s food that motivates the wolf to attack the little girl and that drives the story to the end. So, when I heard about a Chinese version, Lon Po Po: A Red-Riding Hood Story from China, I thought it would be a great book to share for the Chinese New Year.

Lon Po Po is based on an old Chinese folktale, and the story is a little different than the one we’re used to. Here, a mother leaves her three children at home while she goes to visit grandma, and a wolf tries to eat them during her absence. The children trick the wolf with a false promise of a treat, and they succeed in getting rid of him before the mother returns with baskets full of food from grandma.

In China, another story is popular during the New Year celebrations. It’s a legend about a mythical beast who would visit a village on the first day of each year, devouring crops, villagers, and their children. It was believed that if villagers made baskets of food and left them in front of their homes for the beast, he would leave them alone. One day, however, the villagers noticed that the beast was scared by a child wearing red. And so began the tradition of hanging red lanterns and red spring scrolls on doors and windows during the New Year festivities.

Lon Po Po: A Red-Riding Hood Story from China follows an aesthetic from China’s traditional art, and the style is dramatic and convincing. The book won the 1990 Caldecott Medal, so no need to insist on how beautiful the illustrations are.

What struck me about the book, however, is the dedication by author and illustrator Ed Young: “To all the wolves of the world for lending their good name as a tangible symbol for our darkness.”

Why is the wolf seen as a negative force, rather than just an animal looking for something to eat? Does he create a sense of fear, harm, and danger in an unconscious, instinctive, and innocent way? Ed Young’s note gave me another reason to think that his, is the perfect book for me to share for today’s Chinese New Year. Here’s why:

New Year is a big deal in China. Everything shuts down for two weeks. Family members gather, sometimes with great sacrifice, in order to be with their loved ones. It’s a time to celebrate love, solidarity, generosity, and hospitality. Food is a key vehicle to manifest all of these virtues, and food often symbolizes positive attitudes and hopes, such as long noodles that represent a long life. It is also a special time when traditional delicacies are served to mark the occasion. Unfortunately, however, shark fin soup is one of the Chinese New Year dishes.

To make shark fin soup, a shark is caught, the fin is cut off, and the still-living animal is cruelly thrown back to the ocean to die. Each year, fins from an estimated 26 to 73 million sharks move through the Hong Kong shark fin market alone. Shark fin soup it seems has no succulent taste and no nutritional value. It is simply traditional, which is important but too costly to the environment and to the balance of the ecosystem that we’re all a part of. Sharks are vital to the ocean. They cull the sick and weak which stops the spread of disease among fish populations and keep our oceans (70% of the earth’s surface) healthy. Killing sharks also breaks the food chain and eventually endangers our own species.

Now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, I am ready to head to Chinatown in D.C. to enjoy the Chinese New Year Parade and wishing my best to everyone celebrating the year 4710!

There is something just silly about Groundhog Day! Every year on a freezing February 2nd, thousands of people come together in a town called Punxsutawney (PUNK-suh-taw-nee) to see “Punxsutawney Phil,” the famous groundhog who is addressed as “King of the Groundhogs, Seers of Seers, Sage of Sages.” They watch Phil come out of his winter hybernation, and if he sees his shadow, it means there will be six more weeks of winter. We know the result because an official holds Phil close to his ear to listen to what the groundhog has to say about the coming weather. It sounds like fiction, doesn’t it? It’s all pretend, and that’s why kids are fascinated by Groundhog Day.

This year, February 2nd falls on a Saturday, so we celebrated Groundhog Day on Friday at my son’s classroom, with a picture book, poems, and food, of course.

I decided on bear-shaped cookies for my “food installation,” because bears are hybernating animals that were historically watched in Europe for weather prediction. And because the only other cookie options were lions and zebras! Someone needs to invent groundhog-shaped cookies!

I’ll rather make treats from scrach with good and fresh ingredients, it’s better for you and surprisingly cheaper. But for allergy and sanitation purposes, some school regulations allow only store-bought items for classroom treats. So, as much as possible, I try to avoid food labels with long lists of ingredients I don’t understand or can’t even pronouce. I was impressed by the frosting we used to represents the snow, as it’s made with organic palm oil, sea salt, marshmallow flavoring, sugar, and that’s it!

We made a sweet treat since the activity was scheduled just after lunch. For a morning activity, a savory option could include bread slices with texture to simulate the ground such as whole wheet or multigrain, topped with cream cheese, animal-shaped cheese or graham crackers, chopped raisins, grated white cheese or grated white or dark chocolate.

Unlike we humans who tend to crave and eat comfort food and sweet desserts more during the dark and introverted cold seasons, groundhogs eat heartily during the summer to make body fat for the winter they’ll spend in deep sleep. That said, groundhogs still wake and visit their underground “pantry” for a little snack about 10 times each winter.

Punxsutawney Phil made the wrong prediction last year. This morning, he came out of his burrow and predicted an early spring. I hope he is right!

I chose art as a major in high school in Meknes, Morocco, and later at university in Aix-en-Provence, France. While I loved every single art class during those 3+4 years, by the end of my Bachelors year in France, the notion of “Art for Art’s Sake” had become hard for me to digest. I felt I was in a bubble disconnected from the world. I developed an allergy to conceptual art, I think because it was the only form of expression that was allowed at that stage. So, with diploma in hand, I decided to say adieu to the Art Universe.Little did I know, it was just an au revoir. Years later, after a professional journey that took me around the world, juggling jobs between embassies, NGOs, and think tanks, I was now pushing a stroller in the kids section of a local bookstore, and I remember saying to myself, while reading “The Snowy Day” to my toddler, ‘This is not kid’s stuff, it’s a work of art. THIS is ART!’

One thing my kids love to do in Morocco is to run to the chickpea vendor. They were not always like this. My oldest refused to eat chickpeas until the day I was invited to his school to introduce a Moroccan dish with chickpeas. Some kids in the class had never before seen or heard of chickpeas, or “Garbanzo beans,” as they were called on the side of the can I brought. The students loved them. That was the first time I saw my son eating chickpeas.

But my boys’ and my favorite are the chickpeas sold by the man with a cart. Warm chickpeas sprinkled with cumin and salt. So simple but yet from another world! Sometimes the chickpea vendor will have two pots: one with steamy chickpeas and the other with snail soup seasoned with ginger, fennel seed, aniseed, licorice root, thyme, spicy pepper, mint, and bitter orange peel. So what I like to do, is get a bowl of chickpeas and water them with the flavorful snail broth. And… Dig in!

Moroccans also eat chickpeas in couscous with 7 vegetables, in a lamb stew with fried eggplants, and in a tomato based soup called “harira.” If you’d like to try chickpeas in any of these dishes, just let me know, and I will provide you with the recipe.

Chickpeas are also “Cute and delicious in Indian dishes, hummus or tasty falafel,” says Kathryn Warren in her self-published book called Vegetabibbles. I haven’t read it yet, but I hope to soon. It looks colorful, educational, and entertaining!

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